


I've Got You

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [237]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain, Protective Tony Stark, Restraints, Stephen Strange & Wong Friendship, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: The first thing Stephen felt was the pain…not the one he’d come to expect with every waking breath he took, not the bone deep ache that started in his wrists and moved in either direction to encompass the entirety of his arms and hands, not even the deeper, burrowing sting that came from sleeping wrong and cutting off his circulation.No, this hurt.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [237]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1118655
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

> Informally participating in Whumptober, won't be everyday, just when I have a minute <3
> 
> Prompt: Waking up restrained

The first thing Stephen felt was the pain…not the one he’d come to expect with every walking breath he took, not the bone deep ache that started in his wrists and moved in either direction to encompass the entirety of his arms and hands, not even the deeper, burrowing sting that came from sleeping wrong and cutting off his circulation.

No, this _hurt_.

It hurt like he’d been fighting for hours, like he could barely hold up his arm, like he’d had to resort to hand to hand combat and had regretted it ever since. This was something so sharp and relentless that it made his stomach turn something fierce and he found himself trying to move, trying to twist away from it all.

He couldn’t.

Stephen’s eyes flew open, wetly blinking up at the familiar canopy above his head. A bedroom, one that resided in the Sanctum but not his own. He had torn down that gaudy covering the moment he’d moved in, unable to stand the oppressive sensation of it all around him. Twisting his head, Stephen realized the room was empty and that it wasn’t just his hands torturing him.

His mouth was dry, his tongue sticking uncomfortably to the top of his mouth, throat bobbing as he tried in vain to swallow. The rest of his body hurt too, like he’d caught a nasty case of the flu, his body drenched in what he assumed was sweat.

None of this was in of itself shocking, not even the fact that he couldn’t clearly remember what he’d done to get himself bedridden. No the thing that really made his chest tight with apprehension and even a little panic, was the sight of his hands.

Stephen stared uncomprehendingly at the sight of his arms, resting just above his head on a pillow, tied neatly to the bedposts. The sense of helplessness that washed through him was not a good sign, not with the nausea still turning his stomach.

Forcing himself to relax, unwilling to risk pulling on the restraints and causing himself even more pain, Stephen tried to focus. Whoever had done this had tried to be considerate, that much he could tell…even if it clearly hadn’t worked.

It wasn’t rope or cuffs or any number of things that would have made this excruciating and for that Stephen was grateful. They appeared to be a silky material, a thick ribbon that had been carefully wrapped around his forearm, starting just below the elbow and moving upwards until it was snugly against his wrist. Stephen knew the purpose of that was to try to distribute the pressure, the weight when he pulled against them, to do what little they could to make it better for him. They were even meticulously tied in such a way as to not cut off his circulation.

A pillow was resting beneath each of his hands as well, raising them in such a way that his hands were level with the place on the post that the ribbon was twirled into a pretty little knot. The care with which it had been done would have made Stephen more forgiving if only the pain wasn’t making him miserable and sharpening his temper.

“Wong,” the name came from his lips in a croak and he became abruptly aware of the way his throat did not only ache from thirst but from use, as though he’d been screaming at some point. This time it came out with more strength, “Wong!”

The door flew open, slamming loudly against the wall and Stephen didn’t need his eyes to know that it most certainly wasn’t Wong disrespecting the Sanctum like that. Sure enough, Tony came striding in, wide, brown eyes fixated on him with a fearful intensity that stole the rest of Stephen’s words in one fell swoop.

“Are you alright?” is the first words out of Tony’s mouth as he comes right up to the bed, one hand reaching out to touch only to stop short and Stephen knows, from that motion alone that he really got himself into some trouble this time. “Stephen?”

“Yes,” he forces out because Tony didn’t need to look so stressed. “Yes. I’m good.”

“Strange.”

Wong, as it turned out, had been there too only Stephen hadn’t noticed…too taken up with the whirlwind that was the man he loved.

“Wong.”

His friend smiled and he wasn’t one to bother with getting overly emotional but the relief in his eyes was enough to make Stephen grimace, “do you feel okay? Ill or not yourself…not your mind?”

Stephen blinked up at them both before slowly shaking his head, “I don’t remember what happened but I’m okay.”

Tony did touch this time, a hand running through Stephen’s damp hair, already grabbing the water on the bedside and bringing it close. Stephen sipped from the cup eagerly, reveling in the relief that went through him as it slipped down his throat.

Wong busied himself murmuring under his breath, fingers twitching. Stephen knew he was being examined and he could care less, the moment the water was pulled away he levelled Tony with a look, “my hands. Now.”

The man he loved shared a look with his friend and Stephen had to clench his teeth to keep from snapping, “I’m not-”

Stephen interrupted Wong, glaring at the man, “if you don’t trust my mind you can lock me up in whatever magical prison you want. Undo my hands Wong, I won’t ask again.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as raise a signature eyebrow, he just met his gaze steadily, assessing before nodding his assent and getting to work at Stephen’s right hand while Tony went for his left.

“Stephen,” Tony begun carefully. “You were losing control. We had to-”

“I know,” Stephen hissed, pain shooting all the way up into his chest. “Just get them off.”

They moved quickly, efficiently and then Tony was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, as close as he dared and pulling Stephen’s trembling hands into his own, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Stephen had already worked it out for the most part, he’d been drugged or spelled, and they hadn’t been able to control him. The pain might be hellish in that moment but the decision to tie up his hand wouldn’t have been an easy one, for either of them. The care that they used, it was so Stephen wouldn’t hurt himself too badly, not so he wouldn’t hurt them…though that would have been a very real possibility.

The pain, when he twisted his wrists to grip Tony’s hand, was as sharp as a hot iron but Stephen didn’t allow himself to show it, choosing instead to sit up and rest a weary head against Tony’s shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Tony hummed but Stephen didn’t miss the relief in his eyes and slight upturn of Wong’s lips. The pain seemed much more bearable after that. 


End file.
